Ginny the Vampire Slayer
by Gray Fedora
Summary: When one Slayer dies another is called. There can only be one, except when there are three. The Slayer has no talent in magic, except when she does. When Ginny Weasley is called, her experience is anything but typical.
1. Nightmares

**I went on a Whedon binge in my afternoons leading up to school starting. This is the result. Obviously, as with many fandom crossovers this one wouldn't make sense chronologically. Because I like Sunnydale High's graduation year of 1999, I'm instead scaling Harry Potter's timeline forward. Anyway this'll be the more serious project to Harry Granger's general whimsicalness.**

All was quiet at the Burrow. The half moon above cast its light over the dilapidated home, illuminating its walls with a pale, unearthly glow. Nothing inside stirred, not even the dormice taking up residence in the walls. Nothing, of course, but a girl.

The sheets around her had been kicked about by her tossing and turning until her body lay completely uncovered. She seemed small amidst the pools of white fabric, surrounded by a sea of copper hair around her pale, freckled face. To an outsider's eye she seemed very frail, an expression of sorrow and pain crossing her brow and a whimper escaping her lips. But Ginny Weasley was far from vulnerable. She was a competent witch who had fought the control of an immensely powerful dark wizard for almost a year. A few bad dreams were the least of her worries in the world. It didn't help that they were as bad as they were.

Men with deformed faces and giant fangs. Malicious spirits and wicked hexes. An Adonis of a man with pieces torn from his body and replaced by swaths of leathery green and metal. Masked men in black cloaks, murdering and pillaging. And then a face. A cold, pale face, completely hairless, no nose, and familiar, haunting, cruel red eyes…

Ginny bolted upright. Her face shined with sweat and tears in the moonlight. She wiped at her cheeks in a familiar motion and stumbled out of bed, down the stairs one flight and into the bathroom. An oil lamp fixed to the wall came on as she entered, and she stared at herself in the mirror. Same eyes. Same nose. Same hair. She looked no different. But she still –felt- different. She had for a month, ever since the nightmares started. They were all different, but all terrible. Often she saw young girls just like herself trying to fight the monsters, only to be killed. Some had their blood sucked, some had their necks snapped, a few were brutally gutted. All fought valiantly and all died painfully. The only recurring thing was the ending. The masked men, and then that horrible face. It was different from what she knew, a very far cry from the handsome young man that had so enchanted her, but she recognized him all the same.

Tom.

Ginny breathed in deeply and leaned back from the mirror, willing herself to relax. It was only a dream, after all. None of it was real. Her parents had already taken her to three different Mind Healers and several Seers. The latter all confirmed that she didn't possess any kind of "Inner Eye" and the former all agreed that she was suffering from trauma after her horrific first year. Everything she was dreaming was all a figment of her imagination, her mind trying to cope with the terrible things she'd seen and done. So why did it all feel real?

She knew it was no use trying to go back to sleep. It was nearly dawn either way. Instead she left the house, slipping silently out the back door, and headed for the broom shed. She mounted Charlie's old broom, the fastest of the family's assorted collection, and took off with gusto. A grin reached her face. No matter what troubles plagued her, Ginny Weasley would always be happy while flying.

* * *

By the time Ginny landed the sun had long since risen. She set Charlie's broom back inside the shed and locked it tightly. Her breath was heavy, but only slightly so, a fact which pleased her. Anyone who claimed that Quidditch wasn't a physically taxing sport had no clue what they were talking about, and she'd been running Chaser drills every morning since the nightmare started. That she'd gone from dead on her feet to only a bit of panting in so short a time was an achievement to her. And so it was with a jaunty whistled tune that she strolled into the kitchen in search of food and was surprised to see that it wasn't empty.

"Professor Lupin?" The man in question smiled at her over a cup of tea.

"Good morning Ginny," he said cheerily. Ginny's mother gave an imperceptible shake of her head from across the room but said nothing. She already knew about Ginny's early morning flying sessions, but it seemed fairly harmless and it helped her cope.

"What are you doing here?" Lupin gestured to the seat next to him at the kitchen table.

"I understand you and your family are going to the Quidditch World Cup in a few days. As it happens I've procured a ticket of my own, although not nearly as excellent of seats as your family's, and I thought I'd join you."

"Mr. Lupin is an old friend of your father and I," Mrs. Weasley explained. "It's been quite a while, so neither of us saw the harm when he called on the Floo this morning. We were just discussing the details over a pot of tea."

"Not to mention Harry is going as well," Lupin smiled forlornly into his cup. "I've got quite a lot of ground to make up with him I'm afraid." Ginny frowned.

"Professor-"

"I'm not your Professor anymore, Ginny," Lupin chuckled. "Just Mr. Lupin works. Or even Remus if you like."

"Okay, er, Remus." Ginny giggled internally at the notion of calling an adult by their first name. "I don't think you've done Harry any wrong. Ron told me you were very good to him last year." Lupin sighed.

"I don't suppose he told you the real nature of our relationship." Ginny raised an eyebrow. "His father was one of my best friends in school, you see. After… after the night his parents died, and his godfather was arrested, it became my responsibility to look after him, even take him in if I could." He sipped his tea slowly. "I'd like to say it was my condition which kept me from visiting, or that Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted to risk anything with wizards dropping in. The truth is, though, that he openly asked me to check on him, even move into the neighborhood and keep an eye on him. But I was too wrapped up in my own bitter sorrow. So while I'm grateful for your encouragement, Ginny, you are incorrect. I've done a lot wrong by Harry." He took one long final sip and set the cup on the table before smiling warmly at Mrs. Weasley. "Molly, thank you for a wonderful cuppa. Tell Arthur I'll meet the group at the campgrounds for me." He stood and vanished with a crack before Mrs. Weasley could give more than a nod. She shook her head.

"Honestly Ginny, you should be more careful with what you say," she opened her lecture mode as she started clearing the table. "You brought up some very bad memories for Mr. Lupin just then." The way she emphasised the name indicated to Ginny that calling him Remus in front of her was probably a bad idea.

"I was only trying to help," Ginny frowned.

A short while later though Ron, Fred and George came bounding down the stairs and, seeing her mood, invited her for a Two-A-Side Quidditch game, and Lupin was rather quickly forgotten.

* * *

Several people arrived at the Burrow in the next few days, including Ginny's oldest brothers and Ron's best friends, Hermione and Harry. Hermione was the most unpleasant of these new arrivals. Though they got on pretty well-she was counselling Ginny at getting over her crush on Harry-they also ended up sharing a room for several days. It had been difficult at first to go out at night without waking Hermione up, and then the night that she forgot Hermione was even there and tripped over her cot she'd had to awkwardly explain about her dreams, something she'd only shared with her parents so far. Thankfully they would both get a reprieve when they left for the Quidditch World Cup; Mr. Perkins' tent didn't have any doors.

It disturbed Ginny somewhat to say that her dreams were changing. Far fewer of the random flashes were appearing in favour of the masked hordes. It was them that upset her the most, because she could see them casting spells. They were wizards, obviously of the darkest sort, and it wasn't hard to deduce that they were supposed to be Death Eaters. Despite having never seen one before Ginny had grown up on horror stories of You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. They scared her, far more than any unfamiliar monsters haunting her visions because she knew they _were_ real, and she knew exactly what they could do.

Her mother's hand on her shoulder woke her before she could be shot out of her nightmares on the day of the game. For once she awoke to a comforting hand caressing her face and forehead, checking for a fever against her sweaty skin.

"Are you sure you're up to going, dear? You know I'm sure Mr. Lupin wouldn't mind taking your place in the Minister's box." Ginny rubbed her eyes and sat up. It was early, even by her new standards.

"'m fine Mum." She yawned. "Just another bad dream." Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Well if you're sure sweetheart. Merlin knows I'd be a fool to try and keep you against your will." They shared a small smile. Behind Mrs. Weasley Hermione stirred.

"N-no…you can't give it to Parkinson… I should be Head Girl…" she mumbled.

"Looks like I'm not the only one." Mother and daughter shared a laugh, waking Hermione for real.

The boys were dragged out of bed much less easily, but in no time at all they were out the door. Ginny had barely been paying attention all morning, but overheard her father telling Harry about Portkeys. She'd travelled by Portkey once. It wasn't fun.

They met Cedric and Amos Diggory at the top of Stoutshead Hill. Father and son had already found the Portkey. Things were all well and good until Amos recognised Harry, and began bragging about Cedric beating him at Quidditch the year before. Ginny's ears burned at that. It had hardly been Harry's fault that Dementors stormed the field. Before she could tell him off though it was rapidly approaching time to leave, so keeping her stormy thoughts to herself Ginny reached out with everyone else and grabbed hold of a lace, bracing herself when the hook snatched her intestines and yanked her through space.

"Remus, over here!" Mr. Weasley waved Lupin over.

"Ah, there you are Arthur. Splendid!" Lupin sat down on the grass next to Ginny and joined the Weasley children in watching their father play with matches. "I've been wandering about for an hour. Seen quite a lot of tomfoolery around too, you'd hardly think we were supposed to be passing for Muggle around here. Why, I even saw a man in a nightgown." Ginny coughed to hide a giggle.

"Even Dad knows that's not right." She smiled as her father spluttered in indignation.

"_I_ did a fine job of dressing as a Muggle, thank you very much. Good job on your outfit too Remus. It rather suits you." Lupin appeared very Muggle indeed, sporting a three-piece suit and a bowler.

"Yes, well, I've been working in the Muggle world for the past few months. Just to make ends meet of course. There's an opening in Hogsmeade though, and to be honest I'd rather have that, so we'll see."

"Any chance you'd come back to Hogwarts?" Ginny looked up. Ron, Harry and Hermione had returned with water, and were all openly grinning at their former teacher. Lupin returned the grin, but shook his head.

"I'm afraid not Ron. Dumbledore took more than enough of a chance hiring me when my condition wasn't public knowledge. Now it would only guarantee us both getting sacked." They all sat, and Hermione politely but firmly took the book of matches from Mr. Weasley's hands and started the fire herself. Harry had taken the seat on Lupin's other side, and looked delighted to see his father's friend.

"Well you'll be in Hogsmeade at least. What kind of job is it?" Lupin began to extoll the marvellous wonders of working in a bookshop, to which Harry listened politely. It made sense, Ginny thought, that they wouldn't discuss the deep, meaningful things, like Lupin's perceived failure or Harry's parents, until they weren't in public. What made less sense was what seemed to Ginny to be an almost active attempt at including her. Every so often he'd ask her for her opinion on something he'd just said. Whether it was because he was legitimately interested in what she had to say or a subtle poke at her listening in on their conversation (which she would freely admit to herself she was doing), she couldn't be sure. One thing she did know, though, was that every time he did he'd give her this incredibly peculiar look, and it gave her the worst kind of bad feeling.


	2. Chaos in the Night

Everywhere. The Death Eaters were everywhere, destroying everything they touched. Ginny's sleeping form refused to stay still as images of the most heinous crimes imaginable filled her head. Murder. Rape. Torture. She felt every stroke of the blade, every cast Cruciatus, and it burned at her mind, aching, searing, pain-

She started back into a waking state, and lay back with a sigh. The dreams were getting worse. She was feeling them now, which she knew was never a good sign. It called for yet another trip to the Mind Healers, and she knew her parents were having a hard time making ends meet with all her previous trips already. Her eyes closed and she willed the echoes of the screams in her dreams to just go away.

"Girls!" She and Hermione both bolted upright in unison, though Hermione's eyes were still bleary. Ginny's father was standing at the tent's flap, his face ashen. "Girls, come outside quickly!" Hermione stumbled out of her hammock, blindly following the instinctive urge to obey authority figures, while Ginny followed suit, her face growing paler by the second as she realised the screams weren't fading.

Outside of the tent was one of the more horrific sights of Ginny's waking life, and was all the more terrifying because it so accurately mirrored what she saw when she slept. Death Eaters in full robes and mask in a massive swarm, laughing cruelly and setting tents on fire as they went. Several were levitating the bodies of a family that Ginny could make out surprisingly clearly as the man who ran the campgrounds and his family. The children seemed frightfully small in the flickering light of the fires. Ginny heard Hermione gasp behind her as she too exited the tent, and it snapped her out of her moment of terror. All she could feel at that moment was a desire to go and hex the lot of them. Her hand gripped her wand in the pocket of her nightgown but before she could do anything Mr. Weasley tore his eyes away from the horrific scene and grabbed their arms, dragging them over to the boys as if anticipating her move.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" His voice rose over the din. Ginny could see Bill, Charlie and Percy rushing into the thick of things, and Lupin was already gone. "You lot, get into the woods and _stick together!_ I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!" Ginny's fingers itched watching her father following her brothers into the battle, irrationally wishing she could join in, but before she had a chance to make a stupid decision Fred grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the treeline, the others following behind.

Mr. Weasley hadn't been the only one to think of hiding in the woods. It seemed like everyone who couldn't Apparate away and was too afraid to fight was rushing down the path. The cries of children and the anxious screams of people looking for loved ones echoed through the trees. They lost Harry, Ron and Hermione fairly quickly, Fred's hand around Ginny's wrist being the only thing keeping her with the Twins. There were plenty of other people there though, and Ginny's instincts flared up again, telling her it was a very bad idea to stay in such a crowded place with all the fighting going on. With a powerful wrenching motion that surprised her almost as much as it did Fred, she pulled her arm out from his grasp and took off into the forest proper, trying to get where the crowding was thinner and less clustered. The Twins yelped behind her and tried to catch up, but she was feeling surprisingly agile, ducking around people and through brush faster than she even knew a person could. She didn't spend much time feeling guilty over leaving the Twins behind; they thrived more in chaos than in peace, and if something went wrong they could handle it best from an immersive crowd. It was just like pulling a prank in the Great Hall. Not having room around her was making Ginny's nerves scream though, and she had to get to a more open space.

She could still hear the chaos at the campgrounds. Screams and bangs and the occasional bright flash of light peaking around trunks and leaves. She passed by a few people as well, and the cluster of frightened campers wasn't that far behind her. Instead she stood between the two. She slowed to a walk through the trees, uncertain of what she expected to accomplish. Maybe let everyone know if the fighting came their way, maybe get in a potshot from behind the trees. Something to help.

She froze suddenly at a noise. Leaves crunching softly. It was low, almost imperceptible. It could have been a mouse for all she knew, but those same instincts that were already driving her screamed at the top of her lungs. She twisted and pulled her wand from her pocket, pointing it straight out into mid-air. She took a few steps back and breathed deeply.

"H-hello? Is anyone there," she called into the darkness. No answer. She sighed and lowered her wand, chastising herself for her paranoia. She was just about to turn around when she heard yet another crunch, and more importantly saw it happen. A twig on the ground snapping under nothing and a slight depression of leaves around it. How she saw this in nothing but dim moonlight she couldn't say and didn't question, as she was more preoccupied by the fact that someone invisible was in front of her. Her mind flashed back to last years classes with Lupin, who had taught her second year class a simple spell for finding invisible objects and baking cakes.

"_Fai farina!"_ A quick twirl of her wand released a cloud of flour into the air. It flew forward and impacted, leaving the invisible… thing coated. It didn't seem to be a person at first, as it didn't have a defined shape anywhere close to that of any Being, but then the flour covered thing was thrown off to reveal a snarling man who oddly enough had a perfectly frozen House Elf stuck to his leg.

"You've seen me… knew I was here…" the man muttered, his lips curled up in a grotesque manner. "No one can see me… bad enough they saw the elf… didn't want my hands dirty, he wouldn't like that…" his murmurs slowly grew more indecipherable. Ginny just stared, backing away slowly with her wand outstretched. Finally the man's head snapped up as if he'd come to a decision. "Can't leave a trace though, he'll be even less happy. Have to keep Father happy." He advanced slowly, the House Elf dragging behind him. He raised a wand and Ginny's eyes widened. Her own flicked in the familiar motions of the Bat-Bogey Hex, a pitiful little distraction but nevertheless the only spell she knew worth anything in a fight, but before she could do anything with it he flicked his almost imperceptibly. A sharp tugging dragged her wand out of her hands. He advanced quickly, wand outstretched, far faster than she could back up. Her legs and arms tensed uncomfortably when she backed into a tree, watching the wild eyes of what would soon be her murderer unable to go anywhere. Finally he was right in front of her. He grimaced painfully and drew his wand up.

"_Avada…"_ That word, and the knowledge of what would follow it, jarred Ginny into motion. Her hand balled into a fist and flew forward. Her intention had been to just hit him in the stomach and hope for the best, but in mid-swing her arm virtually corrected itself in a natural feeling movement that struck him in the sternum instead, directly above the stomach where the ribs met. He coughed hard, interrupted before he could even start the _Kedavra_ part, and doubled over, gasping for breath. Ginny had no actual clue how she had managed to do that so effectively, but before she could even ponder it she followed up without even thinking about it, pivoting on her heel to drive her elbow into his face and send him sprawling to the ground. She was two seconds from throwing in a well-placed kick when she managed to stop herself and gape down at him.

"… I did that?" she whispered, more to herself than to him. He groaned audibly and started pushing himself up, causing Ginny to yelp and reach down for her wand, but before she could straighten back up again there was a loud pop, and then he was gone.

**I'm not content with this chapter. It's too short and was too difficult to write. Hopefully more chapters can come sooner and be better.**


	3. Slayer

"GROUNDED?" Molly Weasley's voice echoed into the rafters. "THERE ARE NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE HOW GROUNDED YOU ARE!" All things considered Ginny cursed her decision to try to hide her jaunt in the woods from her mother. If she had mentioned it the night before, when they'd only just gotten back and Mrs. Weasley was still too relieved to be angry, she might have gotten away with it. As it was she stood in the official Weasley Position of Shame, shoulders slouched and head pointing down, receiving a brutal tongue lashing. The twins, who had come after her shortly after her skirmish with the mysterious man, were right alongside her. "You're all lucky Mr. Lupin came and found you, anything could have happened to you in those woods! To your rooms! March!"

Ginny went up the stairs quickly and quietly, only thankful that it was over and she could go back to sleep. They'd all been shooed to bed after being rounded up and brought home, and for the first time in a month she had slept without dreams. She wasn't quite certain why, only that when her mother's angry voice woke her she was, surprisingly, annoyed. She was quite eager to return to it as well; despite her unusual newfound stamina, she had almost forgotten how good a good night's sleep felt. Her head hit the pillow and she drifted back into slumber.

Men in uniform, gleaming silver devices in their hands. A rumpled face haloed by blonde hair, biting into an unsuspecting neck. Robed men with knives, stabbing, stabbing, stabbing-

A hand on her shoulder jerked Ginny out of her sleep, and her own flew to her stomach, feeling the phantom pain of a knife piercing the flesh even though she knew there was no damage. She looked to the person who woke her. It was her mother again, although this time she was far more relieved than annoyed.

"Ginny," she started softly. Ginny knew that she wasn't going to address her daughter's nightmares. They'd discussed them a million times already, and Mrs. Weasley was the sort of person who tended to sweep problems under the rug when she could not deal with them. "I've been to speak with Fred and George, and they told me what happened. I understand that you're young, dear, and that the ideas your brothers come up with can seem good at the time, but you do know that following them into the woods was dangerously irresponsible, right?" Ginny groaned and pressed a hand against her forehead.

"I didn't follow them Mum." Her mother blinked. "They were covering for me. I went off on my own. I just… I didn't want to be useless. I know it was stupid, anything could have happened to me…" Ginny wisely left out that something nearly did happen, lest she give her mother a panic attack.

"Ginny…" Somehow Mrs. Weasley didn't seem very upset. "I know… I know you most likely feel responsible for what happened in your first year." Her hand moved to rest on Ginny's. "But you don't have to throw yourself into danger just to atone-"

"That's not it," Ginny interrupted. "It's… it's my dreams, Mum. They're getting worse. I'm actually feeling them. I'm feeling what happens to the girls I'm seeing, and it scares me." Ginny gulped and rubbed her stomach with her free hand, feeling a tingling where the knife had run her through. "At least when I'm awake I have some control. I ran out there so I wouldn't have to feel helpless." Ginny breathed out a sigh. It felt good to admit her fear. It felt far less good when a knock on the doorframe indicated they weren't alone. Ginny's head snapped up; Lupin stood in the door.

"Er, sorry to intrude." He looked somewhat bashful. "I was just on my way out when I realised I'd forgotten to thank you for the use of your couch, and then, well, I couldn't help overhearing…" Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, disapproving as always of eavesdropping.

"We were just discussing Ginny's little adventure last night. You are of course quite welcome for the couch, Remus dear." Lupin clearly heard the tone of finality in her voice, but in a move considered by many as one of the most efficient methods of suicide on the planet, he ignored it.

"If you don't mind my asking, have you been to see anyone about your dreams, Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley sniffed.

"I believe I do mind you asking, seeing as it's not your concern."

"All due respect, Molly, I was asking Ginny." Both Ginny and Mrs. Weasley stared at Lupin as though he had grown a third eye.

"Er…" Ginny started hesitantly. "A few people. They believe it's trauma after…"

"After your first year?" Lupin asked, his voice kind. "The Headmaster filled me in on the events of that year when I began working at Hogwarts. If it's any consolation I believe I know what you're going through. Traumatic experiences and magic do not often blend well, and the dreams can get quite vivid."

"Well, clearly they aren't just dreams," Mrs. Weasley snapped, irritation at Lupin for his intrusion evident on her face. "Not if she's actually feeling them."

"On the contrary Molly, dreams have incredibly strong physical effects in the right conditions. Believe me, I know." He moved to Ginny's desk and sat down in her chair. "I believe I may know a way to help with these nightmares of Ginny's." Ginny's eyes lit up.

"You do? How?"

"Camping." At their perplexed looks Lupin smiled. "There's a lake I know of. Very secluded, hard to find. The place is teeming with magic. I go there after particularly bad full moons. I find meditating there soothes the spirit, which in turn soothes the dreams. I don't know if it would work, but if you'd like to try it…"

"Absolutely not!" Mrs. Weasley cried out, in perfect harmony with her daughter shouting "yes yes yes!" They turned their heads, mother and daughter staring each other down.

"Ginevra, I will not let you go running around the woods on a wild goose chase."

"But Mum, if it works-"

"That's a big if. I don't want you out of my sight after last night."

"I'm willing to try anything at this point Mum."

"'Anything' is a dangerous word to use with magic."

"I'm in pain!" Ginny's voice raised at this. "I've been afraid to sleep for weeks. I went back because of a fluke, but I can't sleep if I know I'm going to feel every single death!" Ginny's lips tightened at this. She hadn't ever confided the content of her dreams to her parents, but it had slipped out in her panic. Mrs. Weasley fell silent.

"You… die? In your nightmares?"

"… not me," Ginny admitted. "Other girls. Most of them around my age, a little older. From all over the world. I feel like I know them though. And I have to watch them be stabbed, or bitten, or torn apart. And now I have to feel that, and I can't do it Mum, I just can't." Mrs. Weasley sat silent for a few seconds, then sighed.

"You're a stronger girl than I was at your age, dear. If I'd had those kinds of dreams I would have broken a long time ago." She cast a pensive look at Lupin. "I… suppose you can go with Mr. Lupin. If he thinks this might work." Lupin clasped his hands together.

"Excellent. In that case you'll want to pack some clothes. I'll acquire some provisions and be back as soon as I can. I assume you'd prefer to leave as soon as possible?" Ginny nodded. "Good. Be ready by the time I get back, it's a bit of a trip."

* * *

"He wasn't kidding about a trip," Ginny muttered, wincing as the small rock that slipped in her shoe half a mile back dug into her ankle for the thirtieth time. "Remus, just how far is this magic lake of yours?"

"Oh, it's close, Ginny," Lupin called back. He was pressing onwards with a walking stick in hand, citing sore feet. He hadn't answered when Ginny asked why it was sharpened at the end.

"How can you tell?" Lupin stopped and looked over his shoulder at her.

"Close your eyes." Ginny shrugged and obeyed. "Now listen to the world around you. Feel the air. Tell me what you sense." Ginny concentrated.

"There's… there's this buzzing. Almost like the telly thing in Dad's shed. And… my skin is tingling. Just very slightly, I don't think I ever would have noticed if I weren't looking." Her eyes opened. "Is this what magic feels like?" Lupin nodded, smiling.

"This part of the forest has been virtually untouched by people for centuries. I'm not entirely certain what it is exactly, but something significant happened here. If I had to guess I would say it might be Avalon, or Ys, or some other ancient and lost place."

"How did you find it?" Ginny asked.

"There was a dark fey much farther back, a little past where we apparated in. It was tormenting Muggle campers. I was employed with the Watcher's Council at the time and they sent me to kill it. I accomplished my task, but only after I chased it around here." Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"What's the Watcher's Council?"

"An old organization." They crested a hill, and Ginny could see the edge of a lake through the trees. The sensation of magic on her skin increased the moment it came in view. "They're dedicated to, among other things, protecting innocents from the nastier, darker creatures that exist."

"Why haven't I heard of them then? You'd think they'd be in the Prophet occasionally."

"They aren't in the Prophet because they're a Muggle organization," Lupin said wrly. "Despite the refusal of some people to accept it, Muggles are not all helpless and unaware of magic. An old friend of mine referred me to them when he learned of my perpetual unemployment. I don't think Rupert realised just why I was unemployed though, caused him quite a bit of embarrassment when they discovered my condition and gave me the boot." They reached the edge of the lake, just past the tree line. It stretched on past what the eye could see. "Apparently having a werewolf in the Watcher's Council was simply unacceptable. I rather think they regret the decision now though." Ginny sat down on a large flat rock by the water.

"Why's that Remus?" She wasn't certain why her former professor was telling her so much about his past. Lupin grinned.

"Because they've written a letter asking me back. It wasn't said outright but 'please' was implied several times throughout. Apparently they need a Watcher for the new Slayer, and I'm apparently the only one who can play the part." Ginny wrinkled her nose in annoyance.

"Okay, Remus, you're fishing for questions now." Lupin chuckled but said nothing. Ginny sighed. "Okay, I'll bite. What's a Slayer?"

"I apologize Ginny, but it goes far more smoothly when I know what it is you know and what you don't. The Slayer is a girl, one girl in all the world, blessed with supernatural strength, speed, and stamina, as well as a few other tricks. Well, I say blessed, but really it's more of a curse, because it comes with a destiny. Fight evil and protect the innocent, for the rest of their lives. It tends to be a short life too, considering how young Slayers tend to be.

"In any case, protecting and guiding the Slayer is one of those other duties of the Watcher's Council I mentioned. They always assign her a mentor from the higher ranks of the Council, but for this particular girl I am apparently the most qualified person for the job." Ginny raised a brow.

"Why's that? Is she a werewolf or something?" Lupin chuckled.

"No, Ginny. She's you."

"… what."


End file.
